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by GreenGlitchBitch



Series: Good Omens [18]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Again, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Because he deserves the ability to let down his barriers once in a while, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley cries, Crowley deserved a happy ending fic after what I've put him through these last few fics, Crying, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Good ending this time, Hugging, Love Confessions, M/M, Mostly in the form of Crowley hoping Hell would kill him at times, PTSD mentions, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), but only at the beginning, i swear!!, implied depression, no kiss this time, slight suicidal ideations, takes place in Crowley's flat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenGlitchBitch/pseuds/GreenGlitchBitch
Summary: “You’re so beautiful” the demon drunkenly declared. Aziraphale  glared at him, far more sober than Crowley. They’d been drinking consistently for a few hours now, choosing to spend the evening at the demons flat for once.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621834
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





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**Author's Note:**

> Have another fic! I promise this one is a happy ending this time! Crowley does cry in it, but that's only because he should be allowed to cry, and let his emotions out! Keeping things bottled up is never a good idea, especially after 6000 years of crap from so many different sources! This one takes place a few months after Armagedidn't, and it's in Crowley's flat. I was sort of inspired to write it, by listening to Better by Ben Platt on repeat for an hour a couple of days ago. If you haven't listened to that song, you totally should, because Ben Platt has the voice of a fucking angel, and it's such a good song! I promised Crowley would get more happy fics this month, and I'm trying to follow through with that promise! Also, at some point next week, probably, I will re-upload the Awake the Snake fic I wrote at the start of October. I meant to re-upload it before the start of this month, but I was lazy and forgot, so that one's on me! Sorry! But, it should be up sometime next week, probably. Anyway, here's this! Consider it my apology for the crimes I committed in the last 2 fics especially, and I hope you guys enjoy!

“You’re so beautiful” the demon drunkenly declared. Aziraphale glared at him, far more sober than Crowley. They’d been drinking consistently for a few hours now, choosing to spend the evening at the demons flat for once.

“Crowley, be serious” the angel huffed, standing with his hands on his hips, looking down at the sitting demon. Crowley giggled, a first for him. 

“‘M being serious, Angel!” he said, giggling again. Aziraphale sighed, and backed away.

“If you won’t sober up and be serious, I think it’s best if you spend the rest alone” Aziraphale said, turning his back on the red head, and walked to the door. Crowley had seen the angel leave him in a huff before. He’d done the same himself. But, this time, it felt final, like this was the last time Crowley would see the angel walk away.

“Angel, wait!” he called, expelling all the alcohol from his system, as he stood up from the seat. He rushed to the angel, and grabbed his hand. 

“What, Crowley?” the angel asked, to face the demon, sounding tired. Crowley suddenly realized what he’d just done, and the words died in his throat. Aziraphale took a deep breath.

“Crowley, you’re tired, it’s been a long few months recently. I think you should rest for a month or two. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I just want to make you’re fine” Aziraphale said, smiling softly. Crowley’s heart softened, but he didn’t let go.

“Angel, I-” he started, but Aziraphale interrupted him.

“Shh. Rest, darling. I’ll be in the shop when you wake up” the angel said, gently pulling his hand out of Crowley’s. The demon’s mind was blank, as watched Aziraphale walk to his front door.

_ Do something, stupid! _ His brain shouted at him, as the angel’s hand landed on the doorknob, and Crowley was spurred into action.

“Don’t” he said quietly, not even sure Aziraphale heard him.

“What?” the angel asked, turning around, hand still on the doorknob.

“Don’t go. Please” Crowley said, borderline begging.

“Crowley” Aziraphale said, removing his hand from the doorknob, and taking a step closer to the demon. 

“You want to make sure I’m fine? I am, when I’m awake. I’m more than fine, when I’m with you. But, when I close my eyes, all I see is the shop on fire. All I feel is the anguish and loss I felt in that modern day Library of Alexandria. I doubt I’d even be able to fall asleep if you left. I’d stuck awake, thinking of you. Of what I did wrong, what I could have done differently, why you really left. I would just lie awake all those months, not able to sleep, all the while, missing you. I lost part of me when I lost all of you. Now, I’m just lost without you” Crowley said, wishing he had his sunglasses on, as he felt the familiar sting of tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh Crowley” Aziraphale said, taking a step closer to the demon. Crowley huffed a small laugh, refusing to meet Aziraphale’s eyes, or even look at him.

“Some demon I am. Crying over the PTSD of almost losing the angel I fell in love with 6,000 years ago. No wonder Hell was so eager to get rid of me. Would you believe, there have been times over the last six millennia, where I wished they would? Mesopotamia, the Black Plague, the Spanish Inquisition, 1862, both World Wars, 1967, when I thought you were dead. I still wish that, everytime I lay my head down to sleep. Everytime I close my eyes. I’m a demon. I’m not supposed to be tormented by the horrors I’ve seen. I’m not supposed to mourn the loss of my eternal adversary. I’m not made to love. But, I don’t feel like you’re supposed to when you’re finally set free, because I am, I did, and I do. I wake up in a cold sweat, haunted by the things I’ve seen, the things I took credit for, to keep Hell off my back. I’ve hung around you so often these last few months, because if I don’t hear or see you, alive, and breathing, for more than 12 hours, I panic, thinking someone is coming for you. I check on my Bentley every hour, because I’m scared that one day, it won’t be there anymore. I never actually kill my plants when they wilt, or develop spots. How could I? That’s out of their control, they don’t mean for it to happen. I could never have left you for Alpha Centauri. How could I, when not seeing you for a day tears at my heart? So don’t tell me you want to make sure I’m fine, and then walk out of my life for two months, and expect me to take a restful and relaxing nap. If you want me to be fine, never leave my side again, because it hurts too much to be without you. And please, don’t play coy with, Aziraphale. I know you love me. I’ve known for almost six decades. And I’ve taken my time, I slowed down for you. And then I lost you, and I realized, I can’t go slow anymore. Not when everyday feels like it could be our last” Crowley finished, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Aziraphale could feel the demon's internal struggle to keep himself from completely falling apart under the weight of all that stress. Crowley couldn’t stand the feeling of Aziraphale looking at him, like he was staring into his very soul, so he turned his back to the angel. Nothing happened for a minute, and Crowley thought Aziraphale was going to simply leave him. Maybe the angel had simply transported himself back to the bookshop. But then, Crowley felt two strong, soft, warm arms wrap around his chest, and he felt Aziraphale’s chest press against his back, and  _ oh _ ! Aziraphale was hugging him, and Crowley never wanted the angel to let him go. If he could live in Aziraphale’s arms for the rest of eternity, he would do so in a beat of his corporations heart.

Crowley felt his mind go blank, as his heartbeat sped up. Nobody had ever held him like this. His breathing quickened and thinned, and he felt like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, as more tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

“Crowley? Darling, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked, softly, not letting go of the demon. Crowley began breathing even harder, and he turned around in Aziraphale’s arms, wrapping his own around the angel’s middle, tucking his face against Aziraphale’s chest. He felt Aziraphale freeze for a moment, and he thought Aziraphale might leave him again. Then, he felt an arm move down to his waist, as the other rose, and a hand gently cupped the back of his head, holding him tight. Crowley very nearly flinched away from the contact instinctively, before he felt the hand cupping his head begin to gently card through his hair.

“You’re alright, Darling. You can let go, you’re safe” Aziraphale said, as gentle as the hand currently petting the back of Crowley’s head. 

And Crowley finally,  _ finally _ let go.

He wept for Adam and Eve, for all the children he’d failed to save from Her wrath, he wept for His crucifixion. He wept for all the humans he’d lost over six millennia, Freddie, Vincent, Leo, for their families, who suffered the loss alongside him. He wept over everytime Aziraphale broke his heart and then put it back together again. When he lost Aziraphale in the fire, and getting him back. He wept for the temporary loss of his Bentley, not having the proper time to grieve her untimely end when she exploded on the tarmac. He wept over his fall, the loss of Her grace, Her love. He wept for the loss of his stars, only ever able to see them now, never touch them or make them new companions. Sixty centuries of pain, grief, loss, hurt, betrayal, anguish, heartbreak and death all came pouring out of this demon that was older than time.

And through it all, Aziraphale held him, comforted him, soothed him. The only sounds that could be heard throughout the flat were the sounds of sobbing, and the constant, quiet comforts of “Shh, Darling. Let it all out. I’ve got you, you’re not alone, never alone. I’m here”.

Sometime later, perhaps it was days, perhaps years, it felt too long to only be a matter of minutes, Crowley stopped crying. His breathing evened out, his eyes dried, his anguish vanished. He could still feel the warm strong arms, one wrapped around his waist, the other attached to the hand still gently carding through his hair, and for the first time, he felt love. Not for another being, no, he knew what that felt like, had known since Rome, 41 AD. No, this love was being directed at him, in waves like a tsunami. It was Aziraphale’s love for him, and it was warm, and comforting, and so very strong. It felt like home. He took a shaky breath, surrounded by this new sensation of being loved.

“I love you” he said quietly. His voice shook from the tears he’d cried, and he felt Aziraphale’s arms tighten around him.

“Don’t go. Please” he said again, never wanting to be without this feeling of being truly loved by the one being he loved more than anything in creation. He felt Aziraphale’s chest rumble, as the angel huffed a small, affectionate laugh.

“Oh Love. Just try and keep me away” Aziraphale said, and the wave of love Crowley thought couldn’t get any stronger, got stronger. He took another shaky breath, the smallest of smiles appearing on his face. It was the smile of finally finding the one thing he’d been searching for since his creation in Heaven. The answer to the one question he carried with him all his very long life. Why is nobody ever satisfied with what they have? What are they searching for so intensely? Now he knew. They were finding their way back home. And he had finally found his.


End file.
